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“It was the first time she’s ever had one during dinner,” replied Mum, rubbing cream on her hands and massaging it in. She always said that age showed first on your hands and your neck.
“Do—do we take her visions seriously?”
Mum shrugged. “Hm, well. You heard all that confused stuff she was saying. And it can always be interpreted differently. She had a vision three days before your grandfather died. She saw a black panther jumping on his chest.”
“And Grandfather died of a heart attack. So that makes sense.”
“See what I mean? They always hold some truth. Want some hand cream, darling?”
“Do you believe in it? I mean, not the hand cream, Aunt Maddy’s vision?”
“I think Aunt Maddy really sees what she says she does. But that doesn’t mean her visions predict the future, not by a long shot. Or that it has to mean anything in particular.”
“I don’t understand!” I held out my hands, and Mum began putting cream on them.
“It’s a bit like your ghosts, darling. I’m sure you do see them, just as I believe that Aunt Maddy has visions.”
“Does that mean you believe I see ghosts but you don’t believe they really exist?” I cried indignantly, taking my hands away.
“I don’t know whether they really exist or not,” said Mum. “What I believe has nothing to do with it.”
“But if they didn’t exist, that would mean I was just imagining them. And that would mean I was crazy.”
“No,” said my mum. “It would only mean that … oh, darling, I don’t know what to say. Sometimes I get the feeling we have rather too much imagination in this family. I suppose we’d live more restful, happier lives if we stuck to believing what normal people believe.”
“I get the message,” I said. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a great idea to come out with my news tonight. Hey, Mum, we traveled back into the past this afternoon, me and my abnormal imagination.
“Don’t look so sad,” said Mum. “I know, I know, there are more things in heaven and earth and all that. But maybe we make them seem far too important the more we think about them. I don’t think you’re crazy. Or Aunt Maddy either. But be honest: do you imagine Aunt Maddy’s vision could have something to do with your own future?”
o;Aunt Maddy!” Mum looked reproachfully at Great-aunt Maddy.
Great-aunt Maddy tut-tutted. “Oh, dear, she went on and on at me, asking questions. What was I to do? She’s just like you when you were little, Grace. And apart from that, she promised to keep quiet as a mouse about it.”
“Only to Grandmother,” I said. “Did Isaac Newton invent that chronograph thing as well?”
“You little telltale,” said Great-aunt Maddy. “I’m not saying any more.”
“What chronograph thing?” asked Nick.
“It’s a time machine for sending Charlotte back into the past,” I explained. “And it uses Charlotte’s blood for fuel.”
“Gross!” said Nick, and Caroline screeched, “Yuck, blood!”
“Can you travel into the future with the chronograph as well?” asked Nick.
Mum groaned. “Now look what you’ve done, Aunt Maddy.”
“They’re your children, Grace,” said Great-aunt Maddy, smiling. “It’s only natural for them to want to know what’s going on.”
“Yes.” Mum looked at us one by one. “But you must never ask your grandmother such questions. Do you understand?”
“Although she’s probably the only one who knows the answers,” I said.
“But she wouldn’t give them to you.”
“And how much do you know about it all, Mum?”
“More than I like.” Mum was smiling as she said that, but I thought it was a sad smile. “And no, you can’t travel into the future, Nick, for the simple reason that the future hasn’t happened yet.”
